Chapter 17
F lorence’s flat lips turned up slightly as she studied Constable Withers outside the door to her hospital room. As usual, she was being taken lightly because she was a woman. He’d already left his post to go for coffee twice since she’d been here, considering her not worth guarding closely.
Withers was a pompous fool; she’d seen his like come and go. However, he was her guard for this evening because everyone else was busy waiting for Kelpie to show up at the harbor and receive his drug shipment. She wasn’t under arrest and wasn’t even being charged with anything at this point. And Withers was itching to get out there with the rest of them and get his ounce of recognition.
Stupid men, so predictable.
Oh, they would get their drug bust all right, but they wouldn’t get Kelpie. All her carefully laid plans had worked out, they always did. Men really were clueless. They couldn’t see what was right under their noses because they didn’t think women had the guts or the brains to run a drug operation.
That fool Brodie had kept coming to her for information, and in return, he’d discussed the Inverness drug ring with her, told her all about the drug task force he’d been working with for the last year, and kept her updated. Another stupid male needing someone to boast and brag to. He thought he was using her, when all along, she’d been using him.
When the task force moved on the hatchery, they would find nothing but ashes. Everything was already gone. Hope Barks had been scrupulously cleaned as well, and the manager, Eva Thackery, was as clean as a whistle. Eva was a professional, just like herself, and they worked well together. Tommie and Arthur were supposed to have been the sacrifice to the task force, but Tommie had been stupid, which had made Arthur a loose end. Eva had made sure they were both replaced.
Luca and Belton had just been two dumb kids Brodie had been manipulating. It was pure crazy luck that Luca had gotten the best of Tommie, but neither of them really knew anything or who the major players were. They weren’t a threat, but it had to look that way. It kept law enforcement distracted.
The only real loose end she had left was Brodie. He should have been taken care of this afternoon, but stupid Juice had failed to finish the job while he had the chance. She couldn’t stand Juice; he was worse than Brodie. As her partner, she’d been forced to listen to his exploits with mind-numbing boredom, and she wished Eva had never hired him. Juice’s death hadn’t gone exactly as she’d planned, but then there was no one to refute his guilt. She’d wanted the satisfaction of offing him herself, but lightning had struck instead. At least he was dead and no one could prove she was there as anything but a victim. The word of a Detective Inspector against a hitman would take precedence any day.
No, Brodie was clever, and he knew too much. Given enough time, he might start putting two and two together, but then again, he was still an arrogant male who couldn’t see the forest for the trees. He was obsessed with Pauley MacBride and her rejection of him, which also colored his vision. Like most men, he considered women inferior in law enforcement, and that had played well with her plans. Pauley was an excellent detective, but she and Mica had been shut out of the case. All in all, that only left Brodie.
The nurse had given her a sleeping tablet, but she’d cleverly kept from swallowing it. All she had to do was wait for Wither’s to fall asleep or go for another coffee. It took him approximately 13 minutes to walk around the corner and to the break room where the coffee machine stood. She’d timed him twice.
When the male nurse walked into the room, she glanced up impatiently. This one was wearing a mask across his face and a surgical cap over his hair. All she could really see was his dark eyes staring at her.
“What is it now?” she snapped. “I’m trying to get some sleep here. After all, it’s almost 4:00 in the morning.”
“I apologize,” he replied with a nod of his head. “I have an order for some medication to help protect yer heart. Ye took quite a jolt from that lightning bolt this evening.”
With practiced efficiency, he took the cap off the hypodermic in his hand and inserted it into the port where IV fluids had been disconnected.
“Are they going to take this port out anytime soon?” Florence complained. “I don’t see why I even needed saline at all. I’m just fine.” She was itching to get to Brodie’s room. The night would be over soon and she wanted him taken care of before the first rays of dawn stepped into the windows. Juice had failed her, so she had to do the job herself. But then women usually did have to take care of the thing’s men failed at, but still bragged about. Her lip curled in disgust.
“Apparently ye were dehydrated,” he explained through his facial mask, his dark eyes gleaming as he took off his gloves and stuffed them and the hypodermic into the clinical waste disposal. “Ye won’t be bothered anymore tonight,” he added as he left the room with a quick stride and closed the door behind him.
***
B RODIE’S CHEST BURNED and his muscles were weak with fatigue as he tried desperately to swim up from the dark, watery depths of the loch. Above his head he could see the water getting lighter where the sun filtered its beams into the dusty-looking, greenish liquid. Bits of underwater fauna floated eerily about him and some fish darted quickly away as he slid up past them.
The higher he swam, the more everything hurt. What was wrong with him? He and his friends had dove into the depths of this loch from the floating platform 25 yards from shore all during his teenage years, and he’d never once felt this bad.
Brodie wasn’t one to give up though, not when it was important to him. He was determined to be the first one to break through the surface, gasping for breath and slinging his dark hair back in triumph, as the water sluiced off his trim, tanned body. As he got closer to the top of the water, he could see the brightness of the sun glaring down on him and he began to feel a sense of foreboding. This was different; something was wrong.
When he finally cleared the top of the loch, the lights of a hospital room burned into the slits of his tired eyes and it all came rushing back at once. The warehouse...meeting Florence...the cat...and the horrendous pain in his chest and shoulder. The familiar face looking down at him slowly came into focus.
“What are ye doing here?” he whispered through a dry, parched throat.
***
J AMIE TRIED TO GATHER his thoughts regarding Simon. Had he really seen him tonight? Or was it just his guilty conscience creating the ghostly image with the laughing grin? On a surface level he knew he wasn’t responsible for his brother’s death, but down deep he still blamed himself.
“Simon was a prankster,” he finally began, turning to stare out into the moonlit pastures, his mind focusing on that day at the river. “He drowned when he was 10 and I was 16.” He paused trying to focus his thoughts. Then he sighed and tried again.
“There was this place on the river near the farm where we used to swim. It wasn’t really a river, per se, but more of a fast-moving stream that could swell in the spring run-off, pushing limbs and small trees downriver with its force. Or it could be a lazy swirling stream dropping into the pond beneath the trees where we had tied a rope to an overhanging limb to swing out on and drop into the water.”
“It sounds cool and refreshing,” Pauley replied softly.
“It was, on a hot summer day. Ye know Scotland, it doesn’t get that hot, but it did on our farm,” he added. “Or at least we thought it did because we loved swinging on that rope. Especially Simon. He wasn’t supposed to go there alone though, because the underwater landscape of the pond could change. New logs pushed into place from the spring runoff and other conditions. It was pretty deep too.” He cleared his throat.
“Understood.”
He glanced over at Pauley. “Anyway, Simon wanted to go swimming and Dad made me take him, even though I didn’t want to at the time. But I did it anyway, and when we got there, Simon kept swinging over the water and dropping in. The problem was, he kept hiding under the water instead of popping back up. I yelled at him to knock it off after the third time of going into the water to look for him and having him laugh at me from behind a limb or a bush growing along the edges. I was really getting mad because he kept it up. Finally, for what seemed like the millionth time he did it, I didn’t go looking for him.”
Jamie’s throat felt like it was closing over. “When I finally did, I couldn’t find him. I ran back for dad, and he and my older brother started calling and diving in too. No one could find him. We had to call in a rescue team of diver’s and they finally found him.”
“Oh, Jamie,” Pauley whispered, her hand closing over his. She moved close to him and laid her head on the back of his tense shoulder.
“They found him beneath a big log near the right side, his t-shirt twisted around a branch on the log. He must have swum underwater to hide behind the log, ducked under it to stay beneath the water, and got caught on it, they said. It was an accident, they said. But I should have checked.”
Jamie turned over and Pauley lay on top of him, her head on his heart. He held her close, drawing comfort from her presence.
“I know it wasn’t my fault, but I should have done more to discourage his dangerous prank. No one blamed me, they all knew what Simon was like, but I blamed me. I was the older brother; I should have dragged him home and turned him over to dad. Or beat the living snot out of him myself to make him stop.
Anyway, two years later, on All Hallow’s Eve, I saw him again. My mum enjoyed All Hallow’s Eve, and liked to follow the tradition of leaving the doors and windows open on that night. I think she was hoping to see Simon, but it wasn’t her that saw him. It was me, and it totally freaked me out.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Nay, and it was only for a few seconds. I blinked and he was gone, but I saw that smile he always wore when he had just weirded me out. And his thumbs up sign. Like it was all just another joke.”
“Cripes, yer giving me goosebumps,” Pauley whispered, shivering.
“Since that night, I’ve never stayed where that particular tradition was being celebrated.”
“Did Rhonda believe in spirits among us?”
He chuckled. “Rhonda was open minded, but skeptical. If she couldn’t see it, she didn’t believe in it.”
“I can no discount the possibilities, but it takes a lot to convince me,” Pauley confessed.
“Even with yer Gramma Caulfield assuring ye that ye just need to dial in?” he teased.
“That’s one phone number I’ll leave off my list,” she assured him. “I’ve no desire to be on talking terms with the deceased.”
“Which is why I’ve avoided haunted places and All Hallow’s Eve,” Jamie assured her. “Until tonight. Simon seems determined to keep pranking me if his words were anything to go by in Kelly Woods earlier.”
“Or maybe it’s his way of telling ye that he is fine and not to blame yerself,” Pauley suggested. “Forgive yerself and move on, mayhap? After all, he was only 10 when he died, he might still be thinking like a kid.”
Jamie was surprised at the wisdom in her words. “I hadn’t thought of it quite like that,” he murmured. “Whenever I think of Simon, I always think of that goofy smirk of a grin. He never thought he was doing anything wrong, just having fun tormenting us all. He was actually super smart and ahead of the kids in his own grade by a landslide. He always said he wanted to create fireworks and stuff when he got older. He loved watching the fireworks.”
On an impulse, Jamie rolled over and picked up the binoculars. Crawling forward, he trained them on Kelly Woods and searched the ground area near the tree where Juice was sitting on the limb.
“What are ye doing?” Pauley asked, crawling up beside him.
“I’m looking for Simon,” he whispered, the skin on the back of his neck crawling as he spoke the words out loud. Would his words give Simon permission to keep haunting him? He shivered. It was still All Hallow’s night, and anything could happen. Finally, he gave up and scooted back into the barn and flopped on his back again. There was nothing out there.
“No luck, huh?”
“Nay,” he replied dryly.
They both jumped when Pauley’s cell phone went off.
***
“H IYA, MICA,” PAULEY answered the phone, slightly breathless. “Can I put ye on speaker? Jamie is here with me.”
“Aye, he’s going to want to hear this,” Mica replied, his voice tight.
Pauley flipped the phone to speaker. “There, it’s on speaker. Were we right? Did Florence go after Brodie?” she asked in excitement. Her heart fluttered with the anticipation.
“Florence is dead,” Mica replied flatly.
Pauley was stunned. “D-Dead? How? What happened?”
“Cripes,” Jamie swore, sitting up beside Pauley.
“I came to Brodie’s room to wait for her, but she never showed up. There was a code blue for another patient while I was waiting, and when I checked it out, it was Florence,” he snapped.
“W-What happened?” Pauley stuttered.
“She had a massive heart attack about an hour ago. They’ve been working on her, but they couldn’t get her heart started again. Naturally, Wither’s was getting a cup of coffee so he didn’t see anything, just heard the code blue and came racing around the corner to see the nurses headed into her room,” he snarled.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Pauley exclaimed. “A heart attack?”
“The last time anyone was in her room was when the male nurse, Barney, went in to give her a shot for her heart. To help protect her from this happening. Apparently, it didn’t work.”
“Did the lab check her blood?” Pauley asked, thinking fast. “Maybe the medicine was the wrong stuff or something.”
“Nope, the meds are in her blood, that didn’t kill her. They are saying her heart gave out from the delayed stress of the strike. It’s all we have at the moment.”
Pauley blew out a breath and glanced at her watch. It was almost 5:00 in the morning. “Have ye talked to Quinn? Has the raid happened at the docks?”
“Aye, Quinn is here now. They got the drugs being shipped out, but it wasn’t near the haul they were hoping for. And Kelpie wasn’t there, just a couple of his flunkies on the boat. They don’t answer to Kelpie, so they don’t know who he is. Layering. Kelpie, whoever he is, is clever.”
Pauley’s heart sank. “Anything else?”
“Aye, the hatchery was nothing but ashes when the task force went in last night. No evidence that drugs had ever been there. Whoever cleaned up did a good job,” he admitted. “And ye could practically eat off the basement floor at Hope Barks. No evidence of drugs there either, according to Quinn. The task force is beside themselves, and Quinn is really pissed at losing Florence. Juice, he understands, but he’s still down two constables. And Florence leaves behind a kid. He’s feeling like a right failure for not investigating Juice more deeply.”
“I guess we were wrong about Florence,” Jamie added, his brows creased in a frown.
“Mayhap,” Pauley replied. “Then again, mayhap we weren’t, and her failure to clean up loose ends made her one.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, Pauley,” Mica said. “And the more I think about it, the more I think Luca was a distraction. Maybe Belton, too. A way to divide police resources and keep everyone off balance.”
“But isn’t Belton the one who helped Tommie and Arthur unload a shipment of drugs into the animal shelter the night Tommie chased Luca?” Pauley argued.
Mica hesitated. “About that...the van has disappeared completely. It wasn’t at the hatchery, and they haven’t found it burned out anywhere. Most likely, it’s been repainted and relocated somewhere else. There is no proof of what they were hauling that night, either.
I already talked to Belton earlier, and he said he never saw what was in the boxes. They were marked as cans of cat and dog food. And with both Tommie and Arthur dead, the drugs they were supplying Belton with dried up.
To be on the safe side though, ye need to keep Luca and Belton there, at least through today. Tomorrow is Luca’s hearing, but unless something else happens, I think it’s safe to say he doesn’t know enough about anything to cause anyone problems. Belton selling a few drugs to help his mother out isn’t going to go anywhere either,” he added. “I talked to Eva and she was appalled, or so she acted, that anyone had been selling drugs on her premises. Belton will need to find a new job when he gets back.”
“How does she explain the truck at her place of business at night?” Pauley growled.
“She said they get deliveries of donated animal food every now and then,” he replied. “Sometimes companies will deliver at night because it’s quieter and it won’t disturb the foot traffic of people and animals coming to the shelter during the day. That was one of Belton’s jobs, to handle any night deliveries.”
“I can see that,” Pauley admitted grudgingly. “There are plenty of night deliveries at other businesses for some of the same reasons.”
“We both know Tommie and Arthur weren’t delivering donated animal food,” Mica growled, “but proving it is the problem. Eva said she didn’t recognize those two men, but that didn’t mean anything. She rarely saw any of the night deliveries. That’s what she has staff for, so she doesn’t have to. Plus, Belton didn’t actually know what was in the cargo. They gave him his drugs to sell on other occasions.”
“And Tommie and Arthur are dead ends,” Jamie said with a nod.
Pauley was actually relieved. “If that’s all true, then I’m glad,” she replied with a sigh. “I’d hate to see anything happen to Belton or Luca. They are just kids. I hope ye are right, Mica, and it’s almost over with. Belton will have to pay for his mistake, but I’m sure the courts will be lenient given the situation with his sister. It’s better than being dead.”
“I agree. I’ll let you know if I find out anything else.”
Mica hung up and Pauley looked over at Jamie. “Well, I think it’s almost over.”
Jamie nodded and looked around. “The sun is already starting to creep over the horizon.” He stiffened suddenly; his gaze drawn to the back of the barn near where they’d been earlier.
Her flesh suddenly goose-pimpled at his intense gaze. “Jamie, what is it?” she whispered, flicking her head around to follow his eyes. She searched the darker recesses of the hayloft, but all she saw was some wispy cobwebs floating in the air as they spun slowly in the beginning morning breeze.
Jamie’s eyes refocused on hers. “I-It looked like Simon again,” he grunted, “except this time, he just grinned and waved before he turned back into a cobweb.” He shook his head as if to clear it, and looked again. “There really is nothing there,” he murmured. “Do ye think I’m crazy?”
Pauley smiled, her heart feeling warm and soft for this man. “I think it’s whatever ye wish it to be,” she said simply. “Mayhap it was Simon, letting ye know that he won’t be back after this. Mayhap it was yerself looking for a goodbye since ye might have achieved whatever peace ye thought he wanted ye to have.”
Jamie looked around with a sudden shiver. “Do ye suppose he was listening to us?”
“I don’t think the spirits have to listen to us to know what’s in our hearts,” Pauley replied.
“Then ye do believe in spirits?”
“Do ye?”
He nodded his head. “Aye, I think I do. But I’m no wanting them to come visiting me.”
“And maybe he’s through playing pranks on ye for now,” she teased. “I don’t know about ye, but I’m ready for some breakfast. Shall we go make some for everyone? Or do ye think Lucerne will be up early and already cooking?”
Jamie stood up and held out his hand to pull Pauley up and into his arms. “Under normal circumstances, I’d say Lucerne would be up and getting her skillets out. But knowing her protective husband and the night we had last night, I’d say she won’t be allowed to set one toe on the floor this morning.”
Pauley yawned. “I don’t know how much sleep everyone else got last night, but after breakfast, I’m ready for at least a couple of hours.”
In the kitchen, they found Darro and Angus at the table sipping on some coffee, but no one else was up.
“And just where have ye two been all night?” Angus teased, although he looked about as tired as Pauley felt.
“We were on a stakeout in the hayloft,” Jamie replied, his eyes twinkling. “We kept watch over the back pastures and Juice in his tree. He was still there the last we saw.” He walked towards the coffee pot. “Ah, the smell of fresh coffee in the morning.”
“Help yerself,” Darro replied with a tired chuckle. “Poppy is coming over with a couple of her American breakfast casseroles at 6:30 a.m. The morning crew will be coming in at 7:00 a.m. and sending the night crew home.”
“We were going to volunteer to make breakfast,” Jamie replied. “I figured Lucerne would be grounded this morning.”
Darro smiled. “Aye, she had a hard time settling down, so I turned her alarm off and told her not to worry about getting up until she wanted to. She finally fell asleep.”
“I took Poppy home last night so she could get some rest,” Angus added. “Ben and Dorothy are staying with her.”
“Any news from Mica?” Darro asked, taking a drink from his cup.
“Aye,” Pauley replied, taking the cup of coffee Jamie handed to her and sitting down at the table. She and Jamie explained everything Mica had told them.
Darro looked thoughtful. “That is interesting, although some of it sounds really suspicious. It seems like a lot of trouble to go to for Juice to kidnap Florence and bring her up here under the pretense of taking potshots at the boys just for a distraction. It doesn’t really add up. Especially since no police were needed here to guard the boys. Unless this Kelpie just wanted her out of town and away from the main action.”
Angus nodded. “It would make more sense that Florence brought Juice up here and they both got hit with some very bad luck,” he quipped. The other’s stared at him.
“Florence could have made up the story since they were caught and Juice was already dead,” Angus added, his grin unrepentant.
“She sure was hightailing it back to the car,” Jamie replied. “If not for the helicopter, she would have been able to get away too. She could pretend surprise later and say that Juice must have stolen her rifle from the boot of her car. After all, that’s where Mica said she kept it.”
Pauley frowned. “She’d have a hard time explaining why her hair turned white at the office tomorrow,” she pointed out, poking holes in Jamie’s theory.
Jamie nodded. “Aye, that’s true. It worked out better for her this way. Except for the dead part, of course.”
“But if she planned to create a distraction with Luca, why bring Juice at all?” Pauley mused.
Angus snapped his fingers. “What about Brodie? Maybe Juice shot Brodie and Florence planned to dispose of Juice as a loose end in the woods.”
“Again, why?” Pauley asked, her forehead screwed up in a frown. “If Juice really is a professional hitman, they don’t die easily, and why would Kelpie want him dead anyway? They don’t grow on trees, especially when they have such excellent covers.”
“Unless,” Jamie began slowly, “Florence was the loose end and didn’t know she was the one who was supposed to die in the woods after killing Luca? She had the skill for the long distance shot and now she is dead, after all,” he pointed out, his eyes roving around the table.
They all stared at each other until finally Pauley sighed. “We may never know the truth of all of it, although they are still investigating. Right now, it looks as if Florence simply had a heart attack under normal circumstances. Unless some other evidence comes out, I’m sure it’s going to stay that way.”
The others agreed.